Alexandria loved to cook. She had to if she ran a restaurant, but one holiday made her scoff and take a break. Thanksgiving. Turkey, potatoes, casseroles, stuffing from a box. It made the gourmet in her shudder. So Alexandria had a rule. No Thanksgiving cooking. It was a tradition to just order some takeout, and watch football while getting drunk.
But that was before Alexandria made friends...
"Whadya mean ya not cookin'?!" The perky smiling blonde all but shouted at the grimacing blonde. The chef sighed as she placed the grilled cheese on a plate for her...friend.
"Just what I said. I don't do Thanksgiving. I don't cook."
"But isn't Thanksgivin' a chefs dream?" Harley began nibbling on a corner o the sandwhich. Alex began cleaning off her skillet in her apartments sink.
"I guess for other people, but since I've got no family, and I got sick of all the same dishes growing up, I kinda pretend it doesn't exist." Harley swallowed before looking around the apartment with a critical eye.
"So no turkey, gravy, or stuffin'?" the chef shook her head.
"What about... chili?"
"Chili is good anytime of the year."
"French Fries?"
"Potatoes are the gods gift to man."
"Salsa?" Alexandria looked up from her cleaning.
"What are you up to?" Harley grinned widely before walking to her apartment window.
"Whyyyyy, nothin' at all, Sunshine!" Harley slipped her hat/mask back on before waving. "I'll see you Friday!" And with that Harley Quinn left a puzzled chef standing in her kitchen. As the Villianesse flipped her way through the city... she began plotting her next scheme.
It was an odd sight at the Joker estate. A rag tag group of Villains standing in a dirty, ill prepared kitchen. All of which wore stained aprons, and comically large chefs hats.
"Alright! Sunshine don't cook on Thanksgivin', and I think it's high time we pay her back!" Harley pointed a butcher knife at the rouges.
"Don't we pay her with money and her life?" Crane asked, shoulders squared at the ridiculousness of the plan. Harley pouted at her fellow Doctor.
"She's done so much for us, lets give her a feast!" Jervis giggled.
"I know a recipe of orange scones I know she'll love!" Harley smiled wide.
"Tha's the spirit! Hattie you do desserts with Marcus! Birdie you do veggie sides! Don' give me that look Pam, you can do the eggs. Eddie you-" Riddler held up his hand.
"I'll be making risotto." Riddler said with such conviction it caused the other rouges to snicker.
"What about me, Harls?" Joker had been kneeling next to the stove, his Batman apron covered in blood and bullet holes. Harley smiled wider if possible.
"We're gonna handle the main dish!"
Alexandria rolled her eyes at antics of two goons in her lobby. They we're tossing peas into the air and trying to catch them in their mouth. The holiday spirit in Gotham seem to actually be cutting through the gloomy, rainy fog that covered the city all year. That was one of the only saving graces to this city. After ten months of fear and crime, at least everyone calms down for the two remaining months. That didn't mean it all went away, but murder and rape seemed to lessen (even if petty theft skyrocketed around Christmas.)
Marcus had called out sick today, but Kyle and Gary we're still working hard covering his absence, but most of the customers were regulars, and they didn't mind the slightly longer wait. Alex was delivering a chicken sandwich to one of Falcone's thugs, knocking a pea with the back of her hand causing a rowdy hoot of laughter to ring out from the table.
"Don't play with your food, Tazer." Tazer grumbled good naturely before stabbing his food with a fork.
"Yes, Momma Chef." That was her new nickname among the seedier underbelly of Gotham. With her penchant to scold anyone misbehaving in her diner, one of Riddlers goons jokingly called her mom when she made him clean up a spilled soup, Gary frantically corrected him, saying to call Alexandria Chef. Of course that evolved into 'Momma Chef.' Alexandria didn't actually mind the nickname, but reputation dictated that she fight back against it.
"That's Master Chef, I know you flunked out English, but it's not hard." More voracious laughter filled the diner, as they all heckled and jeered Tazer, who gave it right back. The Laughter died down as the door bell rang out, announcing a new arrival. As Alexandria placed the sandwich down infront of a small time gang member she looked over to her front door. Standing awkwardly in the Door way was an older man in a classical black and white trim suit successfully ignoring the curious glares, while a little black hair heathen glared angrily back, sizing all the people up. But when his eyes met the surprised gaze of the chef they softened softly.
"Lady Alexandria." His curt greeting seemed to break the spell over her patrons. A snort came from one of the rowdy bunch.
"Pfft, she ain't no lady!" Alexandria smacked the back of Gerald head as she walked by.
"I can't help it your more of a lady than me." More teasing hoots rang out.
"What's up, Smokebomb?" Damien quirked a brow.
"Smokebomb?" Alexandria smirked.
"I can't exactly call you thief, now can I?" The older man glanced over to the chef before giving a meaningful look to the young boy. The boy smirked.
"No you cannot."
"I'm assuming this isn't a social visit."
"I would like to procure more baklava for tomorrow festivities." Alexandria cocked her hip to the side, arms crossed.
"I'm sorry, but I don't cook Thanksgiving." The chatter in the diner stopped almost instantaneously.
"Whaddya mean you ain't cookin' Thanksgivin'?" Tazer called out in what seemed horror. Alexandria turned to him.
"Just what I mean, I don't do Thanksgiving." A chorus of no's rang out.
"But what are we gonna eat?!"
"Same thing I do, take out."
"Now Lady Alexandria, I am sure you can take time to make a Thanksgiving luncheon." Alexandria whirled around to the little heathen, as cheers of agreement called out. Damien smirked as the hollers grew in volume, a chorus of 'LUNCH, LUNCH, LUNCH!' rang in her ears. All attempts to quell the crowd failed. Alexandria turned her glare at the little black hair devil. Stepping forward, she grabbed his collar, causing the elder man to raise an eyebrow as the young boy merely followed along without protest. Alexandria led the two into her kitchen, Gary and Kyle looking quizzically at the odd pair, but wisely going back to work.
"You little SHIT! Do you have any idea what you've done?!"
"Ensured my obtainal of your baklava."
"I don't have anything in stock for Thanksgiving, I planned to be closed tomorrow!"
"Well I am sure you will be able to cook something palatable for your customers." Alexandria rubbed her face in frustration.
"That's not the point. I HATE making Thanksgiving food. I don't get my delivery until Friday morning! And now my diner is full of people about to riot for turkey!" the Chef leaned banged her head on the wall, "All because your sneaky ass wanted baklava."
"I'm sure Master Damien meant no harm." a British voice chimed in, giving a significant look at his charge.
"I knew you weren't poor." Alexandria glared at Damien, who merely shrugged. "He knew exactly what he was doing."
"I will ask father to procure all that you need for tomorrow, food and assistance. All I ask in return is three trays of baklava."
"Father?" Alexandria looked to thew older British man.
"Master Wayne." Alexandria face paled considerably.
"Oh gods..." Alexandria looked at Damien, and with this new information looked at Damien in a new light. "Oh gods I hurt a Wayne. I'm dead. So dead!"
Alexandria banged her head harder on the wall.
"Father would commend you for your punishment for me. He would also be willing to repay you for the trouble I caused." With that Alexandria stopping her self infliction of pain. A plan forming.
"REeeeallly?" the scary grin caused Damien to flinch unnoticeable.
"Must I really do this?" Damien arrived at four in the morning along with Alfred, as Alexandria directed the inflow of produce and meat to their respectful places. Damien was now eyeing several large turkeys in distaste, as he wiggled his gloved fingers.
"Oh yeah, you want baklava, you gotta earn it. No buying your way out." Alfred smiled to himself, silently washing greenery as he listened in.
"Last time I did your plateware."
"Last time I wasn't feeding an army. No reach in and place all the nasties in that pot, so I can make the tasties." Alexandria said in a mock baby tone, much the the boys disgust. Marcus seemed to have gotten over his sickness remarkably well, and was instructing a small group of bakers on different cookie recipes. Alfred was prepping with two others, while the Chef had Damien and another 'volunteer' on the meats.
"This is degrading."
"This is business, Smokebomb." For the next few hours, the kitchen was a hellish flurry of barked orders and delicious heat. Marcus and Alfred were a godsend to Alexandria, the latter seeming to know exactly what the Chef needed. While Damien complained, he never shirked his duties, diving in with vigor. By the time the doors opened to the diner at ten, the line of thugs was immense, and so was the weary of the kitchen crew. Duties did not stop there whoever, the volunteers worked endlessly to keep up with the massive influx of plates and cups, Damien seeming to actually prefer dishes to fowl innards.
Alfred was impressed by his young Masters progress. While still cold and calculated, he seemed to at least respect the chef, allowing himself to be bossed around the kitchen. He had a sneaking suspicion the chef left more of a positive impression then a bad one, if the 'hurt the Wayne' remark was to go off of. By 3oclock, the diner finally hailed off its last customer, the last dish washed at 3:30 was washed. Alfred was even more impressed when the Chef gruffly sent the volunteers off with the leftovers and uncooked food, saying she didn't want to see another turkey.
"Get that shit to some homeless shelter, I can't stand another damnedable bird." Alfred hung back with Damien as they watched The Chef speak with her three employees.
"Well... You once again surprised me with your work. Kyle thanks for not breaking anything, Gary good work on the cash flow. Marcus quit using all my flour." Marcus chuckled as he knocked shoulders with the chef. "Go the fuck home. Don't bother me until Saturday." A chorus of 'Yes Chef!' rang out as they filed out, Gary closing the blinds signifying to the world that the Diner was closed. Alexandria heaved a sigh leaning against the counter.
"Well that was enlightening." Alexandria jumped at Damiens voice, leveling an acidic glare.
"I thought ya'll left."
"You still must make baklava." At the the Chef grinned slyly.
"Oh dear, it seems I don't have any of the ingredients. Guess you're not getting any today." Damien tensed, upset at the development. Alfred cleared his throat.
"We have a fully stocked kitchen at Wayne Manor. I'm sure you will find our kitchen fully substantial." Alfred smile as Alexandria tensed and Damien grinned slyly. The Chef hung her head, a long long breathy 'Fuuuuuuuuck' resounding around her. Damien walked forward and held the kitchen door open.
"This IS business."
Bruce Wayne had seen many things in his years. The best and worst of humanity. When it came to his son, Damien always seemed to bring something new to the table. This whoever he did not expect to see. A veritable standoff in the kitchen between a familiar blonde woman, and his son, with Alfred smiling to himself as he stirred a steaming pot.
"Look, Smokebomb, adding anymore allspice will throw off the whole cinnamon flavour!" A large bowl was pulled closer to the woman.
"Lady Alexandria, allspice will only enhance the pistachio flavour!" the bowl slid closer to Damien.
"Dammit, Kid, I already agreed to more walnuts, don't fuck with my spice ratio!" Alexandria tried pulling the bowl, but Damien held on strong. "Damn Kid, you fuckin' lift?"
"I am not a child, and yes, I do." Damien puffed his chest as he sneakily tossed Allspice into the bowl.
"Fuck!" The chef reached her hand into the bowl, but Damien had already stuck a wooden spoon in, stirring the nut mixture, causing the Blonde to growl out.
"What is going on here?" Alfred looked up smiling, Damien stopped his stirring looking at his father with a blank look, while Alexandria paled at the sight of the Elder Wayne.
"My friend and I are making baklava." Alexandria swung her head in surprise at the friend statement, while Bruce's eyes widened. both of which echoing,
"Friend?"
"Yes, she is the one we assisted today." Bruce looked at the Blonde, who seemed to pale even more.
"Friend?! Fuck Smokebomb, you tried to steal from me!"
"You will not let that go will you, even though I proved to you I did not steal anything." The pale complexion reddened slightly.
"Hey! You were up to something sneaky!"
"You have no way of proving that, Lady Alexandria."
"Dammit, it's Chef!"
"Of course, Lady Chef. Shall we prepare the phillo dough?" Alexandria pinched the bridge of her nose, leaving a dusting of spices behind.
"Yeah, whatever Smokebomb. Ten, seven, seven, six, ten." As the duo walked to the refrigerator, Bruce walked up to Alfred.
"He knows she's a suspect."
"I don't believe he cares, Master Wayne." Bruce's eyebrows cocked slightly, watching as the two argued over the correct amount of phillo dough. Bruce would leave them be, Batman would be a little more vigillant.
Alexandria exited the limo awkwardly, wanting to get back to her dirty apartment after the too clean mansion. Alexandria placed the key into her door, ready for leftover pizza and trashy T.V. walking inside, she spotted her rouges all sitting about. Harley perked up, leaping off the Jokers lap.
"Sunshine! I was afraid you'd been kidnapped or somethin'! I was gettin' ready to rumble!" Harley held her hands in a mock fisticuff.
"You're so very, very late, My Dear!" Jervis chimed in seated in Alexandria ratty armchair. Alexandria silently took in all that was before her. Collared greens, deviled eggs, risotto, tacos, curly fries, bacon, cookies shaped like foxes and much more layed out on every table and counter surface. Crane and Ivy seemed to be in a heated debate over a book, Riddler was playing with a rubix cube in the corner, Joker was poking his fingers in various foods giggling 'Mine, mine, mine!'
"What is this?" Alexandria asked, shocked as she shut the door blindly behind her.
"It's Thanksgivin' silly! We all pitched in when ya said you didn' like cookin today." Harley pulled her further into the apartment and pushed her into a seat. Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked to the Blonde clown.
Harley grinned, seemingly waiting on nothing, just building anticipation.
"LETS EAT!"
Sorry its late! Its been a difficult time recently. Tomorrow will be the Christmas Chapter! I also have a request. Can anyone make fanart?